


The Beckoning Stars and the Secrets They Hold...

by pherryt



Series: Thor Bingo [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Broken Memories, Canon Divergent, Dreams, F/M, Going Home, Loki - Freeform, M/M, New Asgard, Other Characters - Freeform, Post Avengers, Rescue, Secrets, brief valkyrie and heimdell, brief winona, canon divergent from the point of georges 'death', established george/winona, generations, hulk/bruce banner - Freeform, lost family, most of the avengers are long since dead (its been a few hundred years), time skip
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27973835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pherryt/pseuds/pherryt
Summary: It's been several hundred years since Thor was last seen on Earth. All the Avengers are believed dead or myths, if anyone thinks of them any more with the stars to beckon them and many new worlds and races to discover.George Kirk is rising fast through the ranks of Starfleet, just as eager as so many to see the stars and explore their depths. But then Nero and the Nerada arrive and Georges life turns upside down and sideways in ways he could never have fathomed.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Series: Thor Bingo [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2048841
Comments: 14
Kudos: 22
Collections: Thor Bingo 2020-2021





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is written in parts and was inspired by two things - the Thor Bingo square: "Crossover" and the fact that Hemsworth plays both Thor and George Kirk.  
> So Part 1 obviously fills the crossover square for my Thor Bingo - O1
> 
> Part 1 is made of 4 chapters (which are in beta) and can be read alone.  
> then there's a time skip, an interlude and then Part 2 will begin (which is already started) - but will all be part of the same work, not a series.
> 
> Tags will be added as I go, and if you think i missed any, let me know.
> 
> thank you to squaddy for volunteering to beta for me (and for the nudge that pretty much DOUBLED the size of part 1) and to Erin from the Stark Trek server I'm on for also giving part 1 a look see and an awesome cheerlead! :D thanks!
> 
> *EDIT * The McKirk won't happen until part 2, btw.

**Part 1 - Who the Hell is Thor?**

* * *

George Kirk slid out from under the sheets, his feet hitting the slightly cool floor of his quarters. After a glance down at his pregnant and still sleeping wife, he padded out of the bedroom, the door hissing closed behind him. He didn’t bother with the lights, just letting the starlight guide him straight to the windows.

The dreams were coming more often these days. The weird thing was they didn’t  _ feel  _ like just dreams. They felt… real. Like a memory. He shuddered. There were many battles, in his dreams, as well as heartaches and betrayals.

There were some good things, too. Faces that flashed in his mind accompanying feelings. An older woman with blonde curls that seemed to embody soft love and fierce protectiveness. A group of four warriors that held deep bonds of loyalty and friendship. Then they would fade away to reveal five others, as different as could be, in settings that seemed achingly familiar. They were at times joined by others, but then one by one those faded away till only two remained, growing older.

Lightning flashed and sparked, one of them shouting – the words unheard (unremembered?) – reaching out for George –

A hand slid up over his back and he found himself with hands and head pressed against the glass, eyes closed. He blinked them open as Winona joined him, talking softly.

“Did you have that dream again?”

He nodded. “I dream of another life, of hammers and lightning, gods and magic. Of impossible things and...” he faltered.

“And what, my love?”

“Of a terrible, terrible loss,” George whispered.

“I hate to see you in such pain,” she said, gently urging him to turn to face him. She wrapped her arms around him the best she could, laying her head upon his shoulder. “But they’re just dreams, George.”

“Are they?” he asked, embracing her back and ducking his head into her hair and breathing deep. “Sometimes, I’m not so sure.”

“Are you not happy?”

He drew away and looked down at her, tipping her head up. “Of course I am. I love you deeply, Winona, and I look forward to spending my life with you.” He grinned suddenly, his hand passing over the swell of her stomach. “And our little one.”

He felt the breath of relief she let out, basked in the blinding smile she sent his way. He truly did love her, but he couldn’t explain the deep draw of these unknown dreams. Why he spent hours upon hours staring at charts of space searching for something – he knew not what.

One day, he hoped, he would understand.

* * *

Around them, the ship lurched and shook. A helpless rage echoed through George at the destruction from this unknown ship, the lives it had already callously taken.

But they would take no more, of that he was certain. The Kelvin cut through the debris, unerringly aiming for the monstrous form hanging in space before them. George felt a moments regret that he wouldn’t be there to watch his son grow up, but it morphed into determined resolve that with this last, final act of his, his family – and many others -  _ would  _ survive this.

He hoped Winona didn’t miss him too much, that she would be able to move on and that her and their son could have a good and long life.

_ It’s for the best, my son,  _ a voice whispered in his mind.  _ That they think you are gone.  _ It was startling, the voice at once familiar and unfamiliar, the words unwelcomed and confusing. The words felt… old… somehow, like they were an old argument long since forgotten. They still made him angry.

Maybe he was crazy? Maybe all those dreams, this voice – was proof that there was something wrong with him, that he should have sought out help? And if that were so, then maybe – in a perverse way – the voice was right.

His family might actually be better off without him and whatever strange things had been going on in his mind.

At least he could make sure they lived.

The ships collided and George hit the self-destruct button and then his world went blacker than space, as the power went down and the stars faded from sight and he passed from consciousness as he was flung across the bridge with a terrible, sickening crunch.

* * *

George didn’t expect to wake up, so when he did, it was all very confusing.

There was no beep of a monitor, and the light was soft, warm instead of cold and blue. The air was still recycled, but not as stale as he’d been used to. He blinked and turned his head.

The sharp inhale as he recognized a face from his dreams had the gentleman beside him jerking into alertness, head coming off his chin, feet hitting the deck with a distinctly metal sound.

“You led us a merry chase,” the man said.

“Who are you?” George demanded, rolling to his feet. “I’m a Federation citizen and a Starfleet officer and I need to get back to – “

“Well, shit,” the man said, sighing and passing a hand over his eyes. “I didn’t expect that.”

George's eyes narrowed. “Expect what?” He darted a glance around the room, taking it all in. It was nothing like a starships sickbay, which was where he’d have expected to be if he’d survived the –

Oh.

He paled and dropped heavily onto the bed. “Am I dead?”

“What?” the man snorted. “Far from dead. You’re a little hard to kill, actually.”

“Did… anyone else make it?”

“Yeah, you did good. All the escape pods got out of the blast range before you blew the Kelvin.”

George sagged, dropping his head into his hands, a crazy elation rolling through him. “Then my wife and son – “

“Oh Jesus,” said another voice, snapping George’s head up in an instant. Just inside the doorway leaned a second man, also familiar, also from George’s dreams. “Stevie, the other memories still have hold of him. He thinks he’s George Kirk.”

“I  _ am  _ George Kirk!” George growled, his hands curling into fists. “And I want to go back to my family.”

“George Kirk is a fiction, a cover identity,” Stevie said gently, reaching for George’s arm. George yanked back with a glare. Stevie faltered.

“It isn’t,” George protested. “I have a family, a career – “

“Before 6 years ago, it was,” Stevie said. “We none of us dare go travel closer to the core planets of the Federation without one, but 6 years ago, there was an accident, we got separated and…” he gestured helplessly. “We couldn’t reach you without suspicion.”

George felt a strange dread descend on him. There  _ had  _ been a strange incident some years ago. He’d thought it odd, how strangely file like his memories of his life had been before the incident. But he’d been found and picked up and the strange memory gaps had been attributed to amnesia. He’d yearned for the stars, and eventually he’d joined Starfleet where he met Winona. Classes were easy, George held back mostly by the timetable than anything else and his rise through the ranks once on a ship had been even quicker.

It was like he’d already held most of this knowledge, had already been used to command. And now these strangers were telling him he wasn’t who he thought he was. But what sort of person was he – were they? – that they’d need to go under a different name?

George was afraid to find out and yet –

Memories of his dreams came to him and he knew he couldn’t  _ not  _ find out.

“Who am I?” he asked, his voice little more than a croak.

“I’m Steve Rogers,” Stevie – no, Steve – said, then jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “That punk’s Bucky Barnes, and you’re Thor Odinson.”

They fell quiet as they let him process the information. There wasn’t much to process. Just names. How could a mere name mean anything? If they’d expected it to open the floodgates of his mind, they’d obviously been wrong.

“Thor?” he asked.

They nodded.

“Thor Odinson?” he asked slowly. George had to admit, the name sounded a bit familiar.

They nodded again.

George turned it over in his mind. Thor Odinson. Thor… son of Odin… the God of Thunder… they weren’t seriously suggesting…?

He stared at them

“Bullshit.”


	2. Chapter 2

No matter how much George ranted and demanded, Steve and Bucky didn’t relent.

“That’s not your home, and you can’t go back anyway. They think you're dead,” Bucky said. “I know it sucks, having your choices taken away from you – “ a shadow passed over his face, there and gone again, with Steve giving his shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. The two were, obviously, great friends, for all that George couldn’t remember them.  Their friendship was easy to see in every interaction. “But there is no way a human could have survived the explosion of the Kelvin or the airless reaches of space. Not many of the current Federation species  _ could.  _ Aside from the Federation getting bent out of shape to learn you were there under false pretenses , there would be questions  about your race, where you come from, and all that , and your people would  _ not  _ be happy about that.”

“They already don’t like  _ us _ ,” Steve said.

“Your people don’t  _ want  _ to be found and you going back would jeopardize all that,” Bucky continued on, ignoring Steve.

“I’m not human?” George whispered, trying to process everything they’d been telling him. “But all my scans – “

“Yeah, you’re human enough that you’ve got a – I don’t even know what it is, but it’s some sort of camouflage device that was injected in our blood a few centuries back, so we could hide in plain sight.”

“Nanobots, Steve,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “Stark made them for us, and a few spares just in case, to keep us safe during…”

Bucky shuddered and so did Steve.

George narrowed his eyes. “During  _ what?” _

Steve sighed and, obviously reluctant, said, “The Eugenics wars.”

“You’re enhanced?” George asked in alarm, stumbling back, staring at them both warily. “Enhanced Homo Sapiens have been outlawed throughout the Federation!”

“We predate the Federation, and so do you, Thor,” Steve said. There was a hard look on his face now, and Bucky’s was blank, but George could read hurt in both their postures, like he knew them well. Except he  didn’t. He  _ couldn’t _ .

There was no way –

He couldn’t possibly know them, be this other person! Thor Odinson? Really? A God from Norse Mythology? How stupid did they think he was? His life may have some strange gaps, but there was no  _ way  _ he was…  _ that  _ person.

“My name isn’t –“ he started to insist, once more, as he had done several times already.

“It is,” Steve insisted. “We’re gonna fix this. We’re taking you home where they can fix this.”

“I won’t forget my life – or them – I won’t!”

Steve’s voice and face gentled. “Of course not. We would never take that from you,” he said. “We just want to give you back what you lost.”

“Then take me back to my family,” George whispered.

* * *

They’d told him a little more, had reasons and explanations for every objection. George had posited that he could not possibly be Thor, because Thor was a god, even if he was really an alien, and the stories said he was stronger than even an enhanced human, could fly and toss lightning about like a baseball.

George could do  _ none  _ of those things. Ergo, he wasn’t Thor.

They’d only nodded, not breaking down in the face of his logic, and explained that Thor in particular had come with inhibitors to keep from accidentally revealing himself in stressful situations.

“You’re still stronger than an average human, and quite a few of the aliens the Federation has made friends with,” Bucky said, running a scanner over Thor’s arm. It beeped in a pattern he was unfamiliar with. “And the inhibitors did nothing to turn off your… resilience, that would be stupid. But flying? Calling lightning down out of a clear sky? Or worse, on board a ship? Not to mention punching through deck plating if you happened to trip and land wrong? All of that had to be a deliberate choice. There’s a failsafe built into the inhibitor, in case you really needed it, but Steve and I think it was damaged during the accident.”

George shook his head. “So what are you doing now?”

“Looking for the inhibitor. It’s not in the injection site…” Bucky muttered.

“Or,” George said. “You’re wrong, and you got the wrong guy. Or the two of you are insane and you only  _ think  _ there’s an inhibitor inside me, to support your obvious delusion that I am Thor.”

Shaking his head, George said. “It is interesting, though, that in your delusion, you raised someone else up instead of yourself. Do you not feel worthy of being gods? Am I supposed to absolve you all from some sort of sins?”

Bucky snorted. “Nobody can absolve me from  _ my  _ sins, pal, but that’s not what’s going on here.” The beeping sped up and Bucky grinned. “And I’ve just found it. Looks like the accident knocked it loose and it’s been free roaming through the body ever since.”

“Shouldn’t that have  _ killed  _ me?” George asked in horror.

“Yeah, maybe if you weren’t an Asgardian with a constitution sufficient enough to beat the band,” Bucky said. “And if it weren’t really fucking tiny.”

“Beat the band? I don’t understand that reference,” George said.

“It’s an old earth colloquialism,” Bucky said. “Now, stay still. We’re going to deactivate the inhibitor.”

George held still, eyes wide at the thought of Bucky doing something to him internally. He was braced for pain, or  _ something _ , but the moment stretched on with nothing happening.

Finally, he relaxed. “See, nothing has happened. All this is, is delusions. I do not know why you have chosen to fixate on me, other than that I was lucky enough to survive destroying the Narada.”

Bucky flinched. Actually flinched. “It’s done,” he said brusquely, snapping the instrument shut and turning away.

“What? What aren’t you telling me?” George demanded. Bucky kept walking, not bothering to look back. But George knew when someone was hiding something from him and he wasn’t about to let this man walk away with the answers. “Stop, and tell me what you’re hiding from me!”

Reaching the door, Bucky slapped it open and moved to step through. George had had enough. He stood up and strode forward, ears roaring with a great clash of sound. He grabbed Bucky’s left arm and yanked as hard as he could, anger and rage and helplessness, all of it building and building and building since he’d woken up on this ship and now it was breaking free.

Bucky moved far easier than George had expected, letting out a surprised shout, his body whirling backwards into George as if he’d been a kite dancing at the whims of the wind. He unbalanced, briefly, before he managed to halt himself and plant his feet.

Startled, George let go, letting him.

“Well, you got your strength back,” Bucky said wryly. “I think you dented my arm.”

“Dented… your arm?” George shook his head, feeling a little dizzy from the drop from anger and fall into confusion. Why did these men fill him with so much confusion? Why did he even entertain that possibility of what they were saying as truth?

“Don’t worry about it,” Bucky said, waving him off. “Not the first time and – I can’t believe I’m saying this – I’m looking forward to it not being the last.”

George backed away, shaking his head. “I…” Giving up, he edged around Bucky and left the room, searching for some sanctuary, a place on the ship that was far away from both of them.

* * *

He wandered the ship, more than a little confused, and neither of the gentleman playing his hosts, his  _ friends,  _ sought him out or stopped him. He supposed they thought they were doing him a favor, giving him time and space to process everything and adjust.

Well, good. Because George was going to capitalize on that, like any good Starfleet officer. This was the strangest captivity he’d ever been in, with their insistence of a past life and their otherwise hospitable behavior, but since they were keeping him here against his will, that still made them his captors.

For whatever reason, they fully believed this delusion, and that made them all the more dangerous, because they felt they were completely in the right to keep him from his people and his family. And because of this, they truly believed they would convert him as well, that he would ‘remember’ who he was and fall into line.

Well screw that. If they believed they could count on a supposed friendship he couldn’t even remember – because it wasn’t _real –_ than that was their first mistake.

George Kirk was a Starfleet Officer and very resourceful,  not to mention determined. He wandered the little ship unobstructed, taking stock of the unfamiliar but familiar technology,  running through ideas and plans, though he knew for the best chance of succeeding, he should lull them into a false sense of security.

Even as he concocted plan after plan , there was a niggling part of him that said they were telling the truth, but the part that was worried about Winona and James drowned it out.

Until he came to a room that was obviously unused for some time. Some of the doors hadn’t opened when he’d tried  and he hadn’t forced the issue, marking them on his internal map to come back to later , but this one seemed all too eager. It was devoid of dust, but it smelled staler than the rest of the ship. The lights came on without his say so, and it came up exactly the way he liked it, like someone – him? – had preprogrammed it to.

George swallowed and slowly explored the room. There were pictures on the wall, old fashioned, 2-D pictures, as big as posters, and he was drawn right past the 3D cube of images to that rarity.

He’d only seen such things in museums when visiting San Francisco.

The one that had particularly drawn his eye was large, dominating nearly the whole wall. It was an image he’d seen in his dreams, six people in the ruins of a fight with parts of an older New York skyline behind them. There was Steve, younger, dressed in red white and blue -  _ Noooooooo _ , George’s mind said,  _ that’s impossible _ – and four others almost as familiar. But lastly, wearing a red cape and armor, wielding the hammer from his dreams, was a long-haired version of George Kirk.

It was, unmistakably, undeniably,  _ his face.  _ Unchanged and untouched by age .

He backed up and sat down heavily on the bed,  all plans forgotten as he stared at the picture, at the echo of a memory given physical form. They couldn’t have  _ known  _ that, he’d never told anybody, except...

No… this could have been faked. Right? There was no way Steve and Bucky were right. He stood abruptly, and went to look at the other photos. The 3D cube had videos and sound, voices that washed over him too familiarly for it to be all fake.

The more he watched, the more things came to him, things he remembered vaguely. He rubbed at his aching head and had to eventually concede the point -

He’d had a whole other life.

But what about  _ this  _ one?


	3. Chapter 3

Steve found him there, a few hours later. The door chimed and opened when George reflexively answered it. Steve didn’t come in, but leaned against it, preventing it from sliding shut again.

“It’s a lot to take in, we get it,” Steve said. He didn’t look surprised to find George there, almost like he expected it. “Bucky and I have had a few big shocks in our lives as well. Hell, Bucky gets what you’re going through a little better than I do, even. The whole, losing your memory thing. I’m sorry we don’t have the answers you want. But they  _ are _ the ones you need.”

“I didn’t need this, or you. I need  _ them _ ,” George said, his voice cracking with emotion, throat filling with a lump full of despair and helplessness. His head bowed with the grief, hands clenched together tightly.

There was silence, broken only by the hum of the ship. He wasn’t sure how long it went on. It felt an eternity with Steve in his door before George sighed and rubbed at his face.

“If this is… if I am who you say I am…  How old  _ am _ I?” George asked.

“1800, give or take a few years,” Steve said.

“Or maybe a century or two,” Bucky jibed,  making George look up at his sudden presence. He propped an elbow on Steve’s shoulder and leaned, completely at his ease.

“How old are  _ you?”  _ George blurted out the question. He almost winced at how undiplomatic it was but then… why should he care?

“449 years old – Bucky’s a year older.”

“You predate the Eugenics wars by literally a century,” George managed,  the math calculating quickly, welcoming the distraction from his emotional crisis. “But even the Enhanced didn’t have such long lives. I don’t understand –“

“Because we’re not the same and we never were. Every ‘Enhanced’-” Steve’s lips curled with distaste – at the word, or the very existence of the Enhanced, George didn’t know – “since our…  _ transformation _ … has been an attempt to backwards engineer a formula that died with Dr. Erskine and which nobody ever really understood,” Steve said, his voice going hard as he continued. “He didn’t trust all the people around him, despite the good intentions, and he held things back. Turned out, he had good cause.”

“Different tech, different methods, different end goals,” Bucky added quietly, disconnecting from Steve. He gripped his arm, rubbing at it. The arm George had apparently dented. Guilt pricked at him and he squashed it down. They were still holding him against his will, though they claimed it was for his own good. “Erskine wanted a hero, to bring out the best in people, but there were others who only wanted weapons. And with the Enhanced, that’s what they got.”

George shook his head,  not truly processing anything.  “But… you  _ are  _ weapons, aren’t you?” he asked, gesturing at the poster where Captain America stood, looking for all the world like a younger version of Steve. It wasn’t true – couldn’t be true, any more than he was Thor – but if they wanted to pretend, then George could play along with them.

Bucky’s face went blank and his arm dropped away from Steve, but neither of them answered the question.

“Come on,” Steve said instead, pushing away from the door. “We were about to eat and you must be famished.”

He was about to protest when he realized he was. And since George had no good reason to deny it, and every reason to keep up his strength for whatever trials lay ahead to get back to his family, he nodded and stood.

Following Steve out of his room, George stopped and looked back at one of the cubes – a picture of an older couple in regal clothes, of a younger George – Thor, he supposed – and another with dark hair that stood beside him. He could hear whispers of sound and almost the capture of a memory, but then it was gone again. George shook his head and turned, following after Steve and Bucky.

* * *

Food turned out to be something called Schwarma, which George thought vaguely sounded like an Earth food. They sat down to eat with Steve looking at him expectantly and Bucky rolling his eyes at Steve. Whatever Steve was expecting, it didn’t happen, and Steve’s smile faded the longer they ate.

And speaking of eating, George had eaten far more than he could recall ever eating in one sitting, and that wasn’t normal by a longshot.

“It’s your metabolism. To do the things you do,” Bucky said, shrugging. “You gotta eat more. We do too, just not as much as you do.”

“I never have before,” George protested.

“Yeah, well, you were being suppressed. Your body didn’t  _ need  _ the energy before,” Bucky explained.

“Bucky’s our science guy,” Steve said proudly.

“What does that make you?” George asked, raising an eyebrow. Steve opened his mouth but Bucky beat him to it.

“That makes him a pain in my ass. He’s always running straight into trouble and leaving me to come after him. He was the fucking bane of my existence,” Bucky said. “And then I met a whole  _ team  _ just like him. You weren’t much better at the staying out of trouble bit.”

“Obviously,” George snarked back. “Or I wouldn’t be here now.”

Steve sighed and put down his food. “We aren’t responsible for what happened to you,” he said.

“Oh no?” George snapped, shoving back from the table, his appetite gone. “We supposedly traveled together. Where were you when this accident happened? How come I got picked up by the Federation and not by  _ you?  _ If you had, then I wouldn’t have had this other life! I wouldn’t have had a wife and a son…!” George’s voice choked off and his hands clenched into fists and that rumble of sound was back in his ears. The lights flickered and Steve and Bucky exchanged glances.

“I’m sorry, the damage to the ship, to us, it had been too extensive… by the time we were able to go after you, it was already too late,” Steve said, guilt lining his face.

“Maybe you should have tried harder,” George said, his voice dropping from a shout to something quiet, almost a whisper. “If I’m him, then I wish to… to… to  _ me _ … that you had, so that I would be spared the suffering I now endure, the suffering my  _ family  _ will have to endure if I don’t return.”

The silence his words left behind were filled with crackles of light and pinched lips as Steve and Bucky stared back defiantly.

“We’re sorry that this has happened. Dammit, it’s the last thing we would ever wish on anyone!” Steve stood, leaning forward and slapping a hand on the table. George didn’t flinch as their eyes met. “But you are  _ not _ the only who has had to leave everyone and everything behind and move on in a strange world. You are not the only one who has had their past and their loved ones ripped away from them. Grieve, if you must, but your family is still alive, and they’re safe.”

“Hey, take it easy on him – “ Bucky reached for Steve and Steve jerked out of his grip before it could fully settle, glaring at George before turning on his heel and striding angrily out of the room.

Bucky sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Well, it’s safe to say that the two of you  _ still  _ know how to get on each other’s nerves.”

George snorted. “Right, we’re  _ real  _ good friends.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said softly, his smile small and sad. “You actually are.”

* * *

George tried to avoid them after that, poking into more corners and attempting to access the databanks of the ship’s computers. It was nearly frightening, how his fingers knew what to do on unfamiliar  _ (familiar!) _ controls and he found a whole world opening before him.

But he didn’t have time for a whole world when he’d already left  _ his  _ behind. He needed to get back to them. What he needed to find out, first and foremost, was where he  _ was _ , or getting off the ship would do him – and Winona and James – no good.

One thing disappointingly came to light – there were no escape pods on board. No secondary ships of any kind. It was this or nothing, meaning it would do no good to simply leave – he’d have to incapacitate Bucky and Steve in some way and then take over the strange ship, turn it around and head back into Federation space.

A glance out any window had quickly shown him that they’d long since departed familiar territory. How fast could this ship even  _ go? _

Did that mean they were telling the truth?

Did it really matter if they were? It didn’t change the fact that Winona and James were out there, grieving for George when he wasn’t actually dead.

Even if he _ was _ this Thor, if he truly lived as long as Steve had said, what should it matter to anyone if he spent some of that time with his wife and son instead? Would it not just pass in the blink of an eye in the lives of his so-called people?

Why should he give up everything for people he didn’t even  _ know? _

He tapped into the computer, using an access point from Thor’s room and tried to ignore how intuitive it all was. calling up star charts and their flight path, George frowned and did the calculations.

He’d realized the ship was  _ fast,  _ but it was far quicker than he’d imagined. They were approaching the edge of the Alpha Quadrant and that should have been impossible. He’d only been on board for a little over a week and it should have taken  _ years _ to reach the edge of the Alpha Quadrant.

If George hadn’t already been sitting down, he’d have collapsed in his chair. His mind whirled, going through all sorts of implications, memories from the academy rising in his head, arguments with his teachers that ships should be able to move faster than they did –

He couldn’t let them leave the quadrant! George hadn’t realized just how little time he’d had to formulate a plan and gain their trust. Panic filled him, fingers flying across the console, trying to find a way to gain control of the ship –

And just when he thought he had it, his fingers sparked, electricity arching over the console till it wrapped around it, smoking and hissing. George thrust himself backwards, away from the now useless console, his chair toppling to the deck.

The ship dropped out of warp, shuddering slightly and George turned, looking out the window and staring at unfamiliar stars.

Had it been him? Or had they reached… whatever it was they’d been aiming for?

With great trepidation, George turned his back on the window, on the still smoking computer and left his room, heading for the bridge.

He stormed through the door, finding both Bucky and Steve there, the ship floating over a strange planet and neither of them overly concerned.

So… a planned stop then, and nothing he had done.

“Where are we?” he demanded.  “Is this… is this Asgard? If this is my world, should I not recognize it?”

“Relax, it’s not Asgard – “

_ “New _ Asgard, Buck,” Steve said, with a long-suffering sigh.

“New? Do I want to know what happened to the old Asgard?” George asked with narrowed eyes.

“Burning, last I heard,” Steve said. “It’s a long story, and we weren’t there. But you lead your people away to safety and settled on a new world.”

“It’s why they’re so protective of themselves, and you,” Bucky answered.

“Then… why are we stopped here? Have you come to your senses about turning around?”

“Thor – “ Steve turned, his voice soft. “It is not our way to force someone against their will, though I know it looks that way right now. But you must at least return to your home and touch base with your people, your family. Winona and James are not your only family, they’re just the only ones that you can remember, and everyone’s worried about you. You mean a lot to them. And they’ve always meant a lot to you too. You can at least take the time out to recover and reassure them.”

“Listen, there’s nothing saying we can’t go back out there,” Bucky said. “But we have to be smart about it.”

“If this is all true, if you did not intend to keep me away from them at all costs, then why wait till now to tell me this?” George asked suspiciously.

“Because you really weren’t listening,” Steve said. “I’m not even sure you were capable of it.”

George clenched his fists together and closed his eyes, lifting his head up and pursing his lips shut tight.

Okay.

Right.

Well, they weren’t wrong. He’d have thought they were humoring him only, tricking him. It was bad enough that they thought he was this Thor, and if it hadn’t been for the evidence of his own eyes this past week causing him to doubt his surety of self…

He would absolutely have believed they were still tricking him.

“If you’re ready, we’re about to hit the last leg of the journey. It won’t take long,” Steve said.

George let out a sigh and slumped over to a chair, throwing himself into it. he waved his hand defeatedly and pressed it to his head when he was done.

The screen changed, light flooding the bridge, and George’s hand lifted away. He stared at the growing point of light. This wasn’t Warp. It was something else entirely.

It was… it was…

“It’s a Jump Point,” George blurted,  watching as the ship bounced through one and another immediately formed . But then something else came to him. “Why don’t we just use the Bifrost – wouldn’t that be faster?”

Steve spun to face him, a grin lighting his face. “Thor! You’re remembering!” He leaped up and enveloped Thor in a hug, the grin beaming far too widely for George’s liking. He eased back and Steve let go immediately. He did not stop grinning. George edged away a little more.

“As for the Bifrost, it is no longer accessible,”  Bucky explained. “The science of it is a little beyond me, but I guess your people haven’t found the right materials to rebuild it on the world.”

“How many… how long before we…?” George couldn’t finish the question, suddenly beyond nervous. He wasn’t sure what they would find on the other side of the jumps, what the truth was. a part of him still believed these men to be delusional but another part of him recognized a truth that had long since been denied him .

“We’re here,” Bucky announced, guiding the ship downwards towards a very green planet. They’d landed within moments, and then they were turning to stare at him expectantly. “Don’t worry, we radioed ahead and warned them what had happened. They’re waiting for you.”

“What about you?”

“We’ll stay here. Check in with us, let us know what’s going on. We can take off exploring or we can wait around for you. It’s up to you.”

Suddenly the idea of leaving Steve and Bucky and walking into the arms of strangers wasn’t all that appealing to George. “What I want is you to come with me.”

Bucky and Steve both shuddered.

“Thor, I know you love your brother, and without the influence of the mind stone he’s… more of a pain in the ass than a homicidal maniac, but he’s still a pain in the ass and I  _ still  _ remember when he tried to take over Earth through an alien invasion. He still hasn’t apologized for it either, so I think I’ll stay here, where I won’t risk punching him in the face.”

“Also, last time I was here, Valkyrie drank me under the table. I woke up and…” Bucky shuddered again. “That was way too embarrassing.” He paused. “Though I will admit that Asgardian jails –  even ones not up to Old Asgard standards \- are more pleasant than others I’ve been in.”

“Besides, your people tolerate us on the landing pad, but they think Bucky and I are a bad influence on you, luring you away from your rightful rule – never mind that you abdicated long before you ever came back to Earth to see how we fared. We are not  overly welcome on New Asgard, and your associations with anything Earth related are going to be a sore point as it is. Us going with you will just get them riled up,” Steve said with a sardonic twist of his lip. “Go on. You’ll be fine and we’ll still be here when you want us.”

Not feeling as if he’d be fine at all, George nodded numbly and stood up, Steve showing him the way to the airlock just as someone started pounding on it.

Steve backed off and George stepped forward on instinct, hand slapping the pad beside the door and watching it open.

On the other side was a small entourage. A woman with a fierce glare, a man in all green a half a step behind and a third figure with dark skin and gold eyes just behind them both. Beyond that were more, warriors it appeared, lining a path away from the ship.

“And the prodigal son returns once more,” the man in green remarked. The words were twisted a little but there was a warmth under the words that belied them.

“Welcome home, Thor,” she said. “It’s about time you graced us with your presence again.”


	4. End of Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of part one as the chapter title says, so you'll be easily able to stop here.
> 
> After this chapter there will be a BIG time jump - an interlude piece (Ready, but is a direct lead in to part 2), and then Part 2 will start with a POV change
> 
> there may be some delay getting part 2 ready for posting, but like i said, you can stop here easily. hope you enjoy! THank you!

The woman was Valkyrie, who ruled in Thor’s stead. The man in green was Loki, Thor’s brother. The third figure was Heimdall, who murmured reassurances about Winona and James as soon as George was within earshot.

George froze, but Heimdall kept him moving. “How do you know of – “

“I see all, though knowing  _ where  _ to look is often difficult. But when we heard from your friends that your whereabouts had been discovered, I was able to triangulate from there to watch as they set about rescuing you.”

Opening his mouth, George was about to continue his questioning but Valkyrie slung an arm over his shoulders and smiled. The smile made George shiver.

“Let us get behind doors before we talk, hmmm?” The smile turned into a wicked grin. “Not that I care, but  _ you _ might.”

Together, they walked away from the ship and to a large building. Around them was a strange amalgamation of tech and simplicity, far from the wonders he would have thought Asgard had to show.

Then he reminded himself that they were a people rebuilding – it would be foolish to expect the same sorts of marvels as the Asgard of old must have held.

If they really  _ were _ Asgards, but as much as George did not want to believe it, he was coming to accept that it might just be true.

Too many things didn’t add up otherwise.

They entered the large building which opened into a grand hall with columns. Everything was made of intricately carved wood, but the floor itself was a stone mosaic and beautifully woven tapestries telling epic stories were hung generously on every wall. A closer look showed that some of the tapestries hid the obvious metal of tech.

In George’s eye, the hall wavered, superimposed with the image of something much grander for a brief second before fading away. He shook his head to clear it of the vision.

Valkyrie clapped sharply and the few people inside scattered, bowing before leaving. Leading the way, they didn’t stop in the hall, but made for the door behind a throne –  _ an actual throne! _ – and stepping through into a much smaller, far more intimate room.

It held a long wooden table filled with food and drink of all sorts, with a man sitting there reading and absently eating. George blinked as he took the man in. Humanoid, larger than Terran normal, with a skin complexion most definitely not of the Terran variety, being that it was green. The black hair was shot through liberally with gray, and there was something as familiar about him as there had been when George had laid eyes on Valkyrie, Loki and Heimdall.

Then the man looked up.

“Bruce?” George asked hesitantly. It wasn’t quite the Hulk of the picture in his quarters aboard ship, nor was it quite the man behind the Hulk either that his readings had discovered, but something in between.

“Thor!” the man exclaimed, beaming happily. He stood, circling around the table and sweeping George into a back breaking hug. George grunted through it, patting at the thick arm wrapped around him.

“Yes, yes, nice to…see you again?” he said as Bruce put him down.

“It’s really been far too long,” Bruce said, stepping back. “I was starting to worry you would come home too late for me to see you again.”

“Too late? What are you talking about? Are you sick?” A thrill of fear came from nowhere and shuddered through him. While George was still having trouble recalling much of his life as Thor, Steve and Bucky had been right – there were people here he also cared about, and staying away too long meant that if something happened to them – he would find out far too late.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Bruce said. “I’m just a little morbid and maudlin these days. I don’t really know how much longer I have to live. Like Steve and Bucky, we’ve already outlived the average life expectancy of a normal Terran by 2 to 3 generations because of the alterations to our body chemistries.”

“Right,” George said slowly. His head whirled, as it so often did these days - not with confusing information but things that felt familiar with no recollection. Like he knew these people and this place, he knew all the things Bruce said, but he didn’t  _ know  _ them.

“Come, sit. Are you hungry?” Bruce urged him toward the table and George let him. He settled into a seat, and the other three settled with them.

“So, Steve tells us you don’t remember who you are,” Valkyrie said, reaching for a drumstick of meat, larger than any bird George had seen on Earth.  Though he’d seen a few on some other planets that might rival it.

“Is that right?” Loki said, leaning forward, eyes sparkling with what George could already see was mischief.

“I was not sure I believed them, that I was this Thor and not George Kirk but…” George looked down at his empty plate. “But there are too many coincidences, too many unexplained memories and instincts for it to be a lie. But I cannot stay here, I have family –“

“Yes, you do. Here,” Loki hissed, t he mischief leaving and making way for… for fear? Fear of what? “Or are you planning to abandon me again, brother?”

Ah. Fear of that, he supposed. That would do it.

“I plan on abandoning no one,” George insisted. “Least of all my wife and newborn son. Surely you all can do without me for a mere human lifespan?”

“For the love of…” Loki sighed and sat back in his chair, giving George a look of resigned disappointment. “Of course you went and fell in love with a human. Again. You never learn your lesson, do you?”

“And what lesson is it that I am meant to remember when I do not even recall who I am?”

“Enough,” Heimdall said calmly. “What’s done is done. We need to recover Thor’s memory and discuss the future and what is to be done.”

“What is there to discuss? I will be going back to them,” George insisted.

“You will most  _ definitely  _ not,” Valkyrie snapped. Her gaze softened to something of sympathy as she caught his gaze. “You cannot do so without putting our people in harm's way. You may have abdicated the throne, but you still have a responsibility to all Asgard. Even if they did not already think you dead, you could not live much longer among them without raising suspicion. Thor, you do not  _ age  _ at the same rate as Midgardians do. They will notice.”

She nodded at Heimdall. “We will keep an eye on them from a distance, and if there is ever a drastic need, you can go to them.”

“How? The Bifrost is gone, is it not? And even the fastest ships here would take far too long to get there in time to do any good!” George said, thumping a fist upon the table. His dinner plate and several others jumped, though he’d not thought he’d used much strength.

It startled him out of his anger, though not the sick feeling that was growing inside him.

Shaking her head, Valkyrie reclaimed the meat she’d dropped. “We’ll figure something out. In the meantime, you need to see a healer, and you need to reconnect with your people, and the friends and family you left behind. Now, eat up. We made all your favorite dishes.”

George pushed back his chair. “I’m not hungry.”

Loki stood as abruptly as George did. “I’ll show you the way to the healers.”

* * *

The trip to the healers did not take long. They took scans of his body and declared him fit as ever, then tsked over the scans of his brain, waving him off to get some rest.

He wasn’t sure if he was disappointed or not that he was not miraculously cured. The idea of another man’s memories pushing their way back in and subsuming the part of him that was George Kirk was terrifying, but the idea of not knowing any part of who he was was equally so.

Loki escorted him to the healers without comment, but he wasn’t content to remain quiet as he guided Thor through the ‘palace’ to his quarters.

“I  _ have  _ missed you brother,” Loki said. “And I must admit, if father were here, I’d be getting a grand laugh that your firstborn heir was everything he was against.”

“He did not like humans?”

“Oh, he liked them well enough. Like a dog, or a cat. But you have fallen in love with one before, and he did everything in his power to tear the two of you apart. The lives of Midgardians – save a certain three, and we do not yet know how long they will live – are far too short in comparison. He wished to save you a life of grieving misery. I would have wished to spare you the same, though we’ve had our differences in the past,” Loki said.

George stopped and Loki stopped as well, turning to face him.

“I’m sorry I do not remember you,” George said softly. “I can only imagine how painful that must be. I am sure that we are close and the healers will bring my mind back to me. But I cannot forget them either. If I cannot go to them, then maybe I can bring them here.”

Loki laughed, but it was bitter. “Your son, perhaps, in time and I must admit, I would like to meet my nephew someday. But Asgard will not allow his mother to come with him. No special dispensation can be granted. Perhaps it would be best to let him live with his mother now, before he inevitably loses her.”

“How could they not, if she is my wife?”

“She’s  _ human _ ,” Loki snapped. “And a Federation citizen. The Federation, which is spreading across the Alpha Quadrant like a plague, whose curiosity is too strong to leave anything alone. She will have ties behind her she will be reluctant to let go, there would be questions.”

“Would that not be the same for my son?”

“It depends on how much Asgardian is in him. If he has even a fraction of the Asgardian lifespan –“ Loki spread his hands. “Let enough time pass, your son will realize it is for the best.”

“No,” George said. “There must be a way to…”

“I’m sorry, brother,” Loki said gently, taking George’s shoulders in his hands. “If I could change things, I would. But I have even less power here than you. Get some rest.” He nodded at a set of double doors. “It  _ is  _ good to have you back, causing trouble again.”

And then Loki was gone, leaving George alone in the corridor. With a sigh, he turned and pushed the doors open to reveal a grand room – in size, at least, if not in riches. It looked comfortable enough, especially the large bed that was beckoning to him.

He closed the doors behind him, wondering how everything had gone so strangely. Perhaps it was but another dream that he would wake from, and he would be at Winona’s side once more.

* * *

Morning came with birdsong and the distant sound of singing, and George blinked his eyes open to find it had not all been a dream.

He lay on the bed, unmoving, unable to force himself to find the will to, for a long, long time.

Despite what Steve and Bucky had said, it wasn’t looking good for George’s desire to be reunited with his wife and son. He hoped they were all right. He hoped Winona was at least distracted and cheered enough by their son that the pain of his supposed death was negligible.

He did not wish for either of them to hurt. James, at least, would not know the pain of losing George as a father, but he would face other hardships caused by George’s absence. He hoped Winona was up for the challenge that raising him would become.

George was pulled from his thoughts and his bed by a hesitant knock at his door. He rolled to his feet reluctantly and strode across the room, each footstep feeling heavier than the last. 

He opened it to see Bruce, carrying with him a tray, laden down with all manner of food and drink, much like the table the night before. The tray was large and heavy and far too much for a mere human to have carried but of course, Bruce wasn’t merely human any longer.

“Thor, good morning,” Bruce said, his smile was almost shy, apologetic. “My apologies for the intrusion. Thought you’d be hungry after you sent yourself to bed with no dinner. Figured you wouldn't be up to much company either, so I thought i’d bring it to you, instead of the other way around.”

“Good morning, Bruce,” George said. “You thought right. I am not fit company right now.”

Bruce nodded. “Makes sense. Your whole world has gone topsy turvy, and you’re not getting the answers you want. I’d be upset too.” He raised the tray a little, then an eyebrow.

Backing away from the door to give Bruce space, George gestured Bruce inside. “Come, eat with me? That looks far too much for one man.”

Looking a little surprised by the invitation, Bruce hesitated, then entered, George shutting the door behind him. Crossing the room and setting the tray down at a low table, Bruce said, “I didn’t mean to push my way where I'm not wanted.”

“You did not,” George assured him, sitting on a cushion beside the table. Bruce did the same across from him. “But you just might be the only one around here without an ulterior motive when it comes to whether I stay or go.”

“I admit, I’ll miss you if you go, but it’s not like I can talk when it comes to disappearing acts,” Bruce said. “It’d be rather hypocritical of me if I did. I just hope you visit more often.”

“Would they truly keep me here against my will?”

“Like they could even if they wanted to,” Bruce scoffed. “Once you have your memories back, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.  **They’re** hoping that once you do, you’ll give up.”

“Memories or not, it doesn’t erase the life I've lived, the emotions that I feel,” George protested. 

“Of course it doesn’t,” Bruce agreed, reaching for some sort of pastry that looked familiar but that George couldn’t name. “They can still hope, can’t they?”

“I suppose I cannot fault them for that,” George said, reaching for a similar pastry, his hand diverting for something else at the last second. Flavors burst over his tongue and a sense of home and family came across him - but then it faded again. He chewed thoughtfully as Bruce talked, catching him up on gossip that made no actual sense, but that was pleasant to listen to, nonetheless.

Breakfast finished and, to George’s surprise, every crumb of food Bruce had brought with him was gone. Bruce smiled at him as he stood. 

“I knew you were hungry,” he said. “Listen, the healers will probably come for you soon. Whatever you decide after, let me know. Steve and Bucky are just waiting for the word.”

George stood and he reached for Bruce, taking his hand. “Thank you. For being a friend, even though I barely remember you,” George said.

“Always,” Bruce said.

* * *

The healers  _ did  _ send for him not long after, and he was escorted once again by his brother, and also this time by Valkyrie. The two of them hovered as he was asked to lay upon the table. Holographic screens hovered above and around him and he licked his lips nervously, glancing about.

One of the healers pushed his head back into position without looking, not even a chiding word.

“Stay still. Got it,” he said, greatly disgruntled.

He didn’t know what he expected - a magical bright light? To be put under? Hypnotherapy? But there was nothing of the sort, and as he waited, nothing seemed to happen. He refrained from fidgeting with great difficulty but at last he sighed. “Will you get on with it? It’s bad enough my whole life has been torn away from me not once, but twice, but here I am waiting for you to bring at least some of it back. Unless it was all a lie?”

Oh how he wished it was.

“No lie, brother,” Loki said gently.

“Then what are we waiting for? The moon and stars to align?”

“Oh, how I've missed that sense of humor,” Loki said dryly.

George glared.

A hand touched his shoulder and one of the healerse leaned down. “Apologies for the delay. This older tech is a little more fiddly than we are used to, but the machines have been calibrated to your brainwaves. We’re starting. This… may cause some discomfort.”

Before George could panic, he was enveloped in a field of energy and his skin tingled with the contact and his hair spread in a staticky wave. “ _ What?” _

And then the pain hit.

It lasted minutes, days, hours, George could not be certain. It flowed and ebbed like a tide and images whirled about in sickeningly fast lurches. He found the field held him in place when he tried to put his head between his hands and scream.

He could not, so he just screamed. The walls shook, maybe, or maybe  _ he _ was shaking - but no, he couldn’t possibly if the field held him still. For that matter, maybe the screaming was all in his head, his mouth unable to open and make a sound.

On and on it went, images and sound - all filled with feelings - rolled through him like a tsunami, an unstoppable force, and he was the shore on which it crested, flooding it, pouring over it with more than the shore could handle…

At last, the pain subsided and Thor groaned as the energy field dissipated. He was helped up to a sitting position by his brother and Thor held his head in his hands, refusing to look at anyone.

And he wept.

He wept for the life he’d lost to regain the one that had been. He wept for the truths, and the obligations. He could  _ not  _ endanger his people for the sake of himself. 

He might not be on the throne, but he was still a Prince of Asgard, and as such, he could not be selfish.

“I can’t just leave them, unprotected,” he whispered.

A hand touched the top of his head, gentle, sympathetic. “Of course not, but we’ll figure something out,” Loki whispered.

And Thor wept for the son he might never know.

One thing was certain though, Thor  _ would  _ find a way to protect Winona and James. And if anything ever threatened either of them, he would be there - come hell, high water, Asgardians or Ragnarok itself.


End file.
